Finishing the Family
by quillpixie
Summary: An idea for the first chapter of harry potter 7...


Finishing the Family

All lights were out, except the omnisent glow of the moon. It could have been just an average summer's night in the small dozy town in England. But it was not, something strange was happening in the midnight shadows. Something that, had any average person been watching would have appearing very peculiar indeed, if not most alarming too.

As it transpired, there was someone watching. Though this person was far from average. He was, in fact, a wizard - a tall, dark-haired wizard of seventeen years old. As a matter of fact his birthday had just passed that week. His presents had been rather varied in the effort levels shown, for example in fist place for least material value was a fine little collection of sweet wrappers. But right that minute, his past birthday was the least of his worries. The young man's expression had a drawn, weary look about it; as though it was written with worry too much for his liking. His eyes too, told a similar story, shadows of dark memories swan in their depths, forever circling while he'd rather forget.

That night another shadow was forming, as he stood hidden behind his curtains, peering through at the seemingly deserted street. This boy knew better though; he could not fully see through the darkness, nor was he the cleverest of his age by far; but he did know that something was stirring around his home that night. Something that was evil.

He had been dreaming a rather unpleasant dream, not as bad as the nightmares he sometimes received, but needless to say he was glad to have awoken and also somewhat relieved. Now however, as the hairs on the back of his neck tingled and he felt nauseas twisted feeling somewhere he presumed was his gut, he found himself wishing he was still asleep.

_Maybe I am. _He thought, _maybe this is all just part of a dream, a very bad, bad dream. _Sincerely hopeful, he pinched his left forearm, barely noticing how much his hand was shaking with fear as he did so. Nothing happened. Just for good measure he tried again, pinching his bicep a little harder. Again all he achieved was another potential bruise.

He sighed, turning his attention back to reality. Why is it always me? He wondered, as he dreamily gazed up at the twinkling stars. They winked back at him and he felt stronger. _There's still beauty out there_; he thought, and he felt a shimmer of an emotional filled smile dance over his lips; _even in these dark times when there seems to be no hope._

But this moment of happiness was cruelly snatched away from him within just a few seconds, for a bright stream of light suddenly soared towards from the darkness. The scene seemed to freeze for a split-second as his heart skipped a beat; then he finally managed to throw himself clumsily onto the floor.

The spell hit his window, shattering it and sending glass shards everywhere. Shielded by his bed, the boy army-crawled as fast as he could to his door. He could hear Voldemort's servants emerging from the shadows, trying to force their way in the front door: he had very little time. Voldemort, the darkest wizard of these times, his name alone sent fear up many peoples spines. The boy grabbed his wand and hurtled out onto the landing, wondering what on earth he was going to do. But on the landing he swathe back of an older man descending the stairs towards the front door.

"Blast it!" The man was muttering to himself, "Who the hell calls at this time?"

"Uncle– No!" Yelled the young wizard, but far too late.

His uncle had barely reached the bottom of the stairs before the door flew right off its hinges and the curses shot through. The boy's uncle had no time to even register the attack: there was a flash of green light; and the man's body fell, crumpled the life stolen from it, onto the floor; the look of surprise forever to stand upon his face.

The young wizard gaped, not knowing what to do, there were at least five Death Eaters; against him; just one, newly of age wizard. His only advantage was he had seen them first – just as the first cloaked figure started towards the stairs; he raised his wand and screamed:

"Stupefy!"

The figure fell and the boy ran, not taking the chance of looking back. Fumbling for the nearest door knob he hurled himself into a bedroom. Inside he almost ran into a woman about to exit.

"What's going on?" She snapped sharply, her voice harsh but he could hear the fear hidden underneath. He opened his mouth to answer but once again was too late. The Death Eaters had caught up with him – the door was reduced to splinters and spells invaded the room.

What happened next was somewhat confused. All the boy knew was that when he came to some time later, the fight was over. This he found hard to understand, his home had just been attacked by some of the most ruthless wizards and witches that had ever lived, yet he remained alive.

_Why would they leave without killing him?_

Almost as he had this thought, he heard two voices. The Death Eaters had not left. His breath caught in his throat and he tried not to move a muscle.

"The man and boy are dead and the woman will be soon, Bella; Avery has gone to cast the Mark."

Were it not for the sure fact that he would be killed instantly, the boy would have jumped up that second to duel the owner of the cold, sneering voice and the person it addressed. He knew exactly who the two were and it filled him with such rage, he thought his blood may have turned to petrol and set alight. They were two of the three people on Earth he despised the most – the third of course being Voldemort himself. But, they were also two which he feared the most, for they had caused him the most pain.

"Good," came the equally cold voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Ah, Severus, you have no idea how long I have waited for this…I always wanted to finish this family…"

She trailed off and the boy gritted his teeth. He wished he had the power to kill her; the skill to wipe that smug smile, he knew she'd be wearing, off her pale face. But he also knew he had neither.

He hated himself for it.

As he fell into deeper self-hate, he realized the voices had stopped and several cracking noises announced the Death Eaters depart back to their master.

Cautiously he rolled over and stood up, only to find himself back on the ground. Apparently the stunner which had hit him was still somewhat in effect. Sure enough, his head was aching slightly and a fair number of stars swam in front of his face.

But he did not pay much attention to them, for he was remembering Severus Snape's words:

"…the woman will be soon …" So she probably was still alive! Forgetting his concussion, he scrambled to his feet, only swaying for a second, and soon spotted her.

She was lying slumped against the bed, her eyes dazed and her breathing was disturbed as though it took every gram of strength she contained to draw just a single breath.

"No! Don't give up!" He ran to her. She looked at him, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing as she tried to focus.

"You're alive!" She whispered hoarsely and a small, sad smile made the wrinkles deepen. "God bless you, dear boy…you really would make your parents proud."

She paused to take a rasping breath; the boy wished he could do something, anything, to help her. The woman obviously realized for she shook her head ever so slightly, saying:

"No boy, it's too late for me. Save yourself, you must leave soon and find protection for you…take care of yourself boy. And keep fighting for us, understand?"

The boy's eyes filled with tears, a lump had risen in his throat, and all he could do was nod.

The woman nodded faintly and smiled one last time, then passed away to peace.

So, tears streaming freely down his face and his heart aching, Neville Longbottom set off to find the Order of the Phoenix.

* * *

_There we go...its my first fic so reveiwers pleeease go easy :)_


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